she was walking over the earth, carrying pleasure and happiness to
thousands; yet doing the work of her father no more than her worn and
sad-eyed sister.




VII.

UPWARD.


There was once an aged man who owned and lived in a large house
the height of which was three stories. His only child was a daughter,
of whom he was very fond, and who listened generally to his words
of counsel and instruction; but no amount of persuasion could induce
her to ascend to the highest story of their dwelling, where her father
spent many hours in watching the varied landscape which it overlooked.
It was an alloyed pleasure as he sat there evening after evening alone,
looking at the lovely cloud tints, and rivers winding like veins of
silver through the meadows. It detracted from his joy to know that the
view from the lower window offered naught but trees thickly set and dry
hedges.

"Come up, child," he called, morning and evening, year after year, with
the same result. It seemed of no avail. "She will die and never know
what beauties lie around her dwelling," he said, as he sat looking at the
wealth of beauty. It seemed to him that the clouds were never so
brilliant, nor the trees and meadows so strangely gilded by the sun's
rays, as on that evening. He longed more than ever to share with his